Gasoline
by WashedUpInNewYork
Summary: A dhampir. An abomination. Her spirit could not be saved because she had none. AU! After LS! M for later chapters!


_Chink._

 _Chink._

 _Chink._

The metal of her chains bounced of the stone of the floor with every step she took.  
Through her long tangled hair, the girl could make out the bright light that shone through the stained glass windows. The sunshine felt strange on her pale, shadow kissed skin.

She cringed when the man in black yelled ahead of her, the sound pounded against her sensitive ear drums. She was use to the silent whispers and subtle noises of the Strigoi. The strange people, with their bright lights, loud voices, clean clothes and stone houses. The small party stopped in front of two giant metal doors. Another man urged her to step forward, gently pushing her collar with the metal stick attached. She cautiously stood in front of it. She's never seen a cell like this before.

The doors opened. The girl winced once again as the guard yelled words she did not understand. With another push to her collar, she began to move forward. Her bare feet met a red carpeted floor. She liked the softness, and found that with every step her toes curled, as if trying to carpet it along with her. She glanced around her, her face still hid behind her dark hair.

Further ahead of her sat a lady. Her eyes were bright green, her skin had a healthy paleness compared to her own. The lady's hair reminded of the gold that the tiny rays of sunlight that would make it's way into her cell. Golden, she believed the colour was called. Beside her stood another lady, this time with hair as dark as her own. Her skin had a blush to it, as well as that odd bronzed look many of the darker clothed people in the room had. It was a subtle difference that she doubted many would spot. The lady's eyes were sharp and trained on her. The dark lady and golden lady had a aura to them, their subtle shifting complimented each other, as if they breathed in tandem. Further back from the golden girl and her companion stood two men, both with dark hair and sharp eyes, although one of them was of a taller build, long wavy hair framed his slightly bronzed face. She quickly noted how although his stance showed how he was directly guarding the two paler individuals, his body was angled towards the brown haired lady.

The room was crowded where many paler people sat, staring at her like how the Strigoi would appraise her after every hunt. She noted how the bronzed people stood silently around her and at each entrance. Clearly, she was a threat to them. She growled softly, not liking where this was going.

"Your majesty, Queen Vasilisa. Forgive us for interrupting your counsel. It is of the utmost importance." the man in front of her bowed.

"Go on, Guardian Reaver." Golden lady chimed.

The man glanced back at her. She inched away, uncomfortable with how every eye seemed to be trained on her. Her skin started to warm, and not in the good way, like the sun.

"May we present to you and your respected peers something that will change our society forever. We've discovered something your majesty, while my team and I were exploring what we thought was an abandoned Strigoi hide out." he paused, looking sure of how to go on.

"Get on with it, Dean." huffed the brown haired lady.

"We- we -we found _her_ , yo- your majesty. A girl, chained and locked away in a cell, half dead." he stuttered.

"Should she not be with a medic then, Guardian? And why would a girl be such cause for urgency? She certainly doesn't look half dead." the Queen replied as she eyed the girl.

The man glanced at his comrades who subtly inched away from her.

"Well, my lady - you see, she killed 4 of my men."

"And you bring her to the Que-"

"Tore one's throat out." he continued, haunted. "She looked into another's eyes and suddenly he took his knife and stabbed it through his skull. She was dying when we first saw her! I swear! She was on the floor, barely moving- and then she was up so fast we couldn't even blink. Took all 8 of us that were left to subdue her. But my lady, she had no red eyes. And yet Tom said when she threw him against the wall, she had the strength of a Strigoi…" he trailed off, glancing nervously back at the still, barefoot girl.

"What are you implying Guardian Reaver?" the big, long haired man asked in a deep voice.

"Your majesty, I believe she's a dhampir. But not one of Moroi descent." .


End file.
